


When I Saw You Again

by HeidiBug731



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Complete, Dragon Age - Freeform, F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-30
Updated: 2015-04-30
Packaged: 2018-03-26 11:37:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3849511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeidiBug731/pseuds/HeidiBug731
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loghain and Morrigan meet again at Skyhold ten years after performing the Dark Ritual. The night leads them places they never expected to go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When I Saw You Again

**Author's Note:**

> In Origins, Loghain and Morrigan can do the Dark Ritual. In DAI, if Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts is done before completing Here Lies the Abyss, Loghain and Morrigan can meet at Skyhold. If Loghain survives Adamant, he tells the Inquisitor, "Give my regards to the witch."
> 
> It got my mind thinking.

Seeing her at Skyhold couldn’t have been more of a shock. It had been years since he’d laid eyes on the witch - ten years, in fact. And he’d done well in forgetting their last encounter.

Now, however, as he gazed upon her in the courtyard, the memories of that night came back to him - the touch of skin, the smell of her hair, those wild yellow eyes...

He shook himself in an effort to rid his mind of the memories. It had not been a night of passion, but rather one of necessity. She’d needed him for some dark ritual, and in exchange no Warden would have to give their life slaying the archdemon.

When the Hero of Ferelden first made the suggestion to him, he’d thought the idea was crazy. Some days he questioned how he ever could have agreed to it. But, living was better than dying, and the Hero had left the choice to him. He’d been free to walk away, but somehow, against his better judgement, he’d gone through with it.

He had yet to see the consequences of that ritual. The world was falling apart, though it had nothing to do with the old god soul Morrigan had wanted to preserve through the child the ritual would produce. The witch had stayed out of Ferelden as she had promised, and no younger sibling had appeared to challenge Anora’s claim to the throne. Perhaps nothing terrible had happened from that night, after all.

As Loghain watched the witch in the courtyard, a small boy ran up to her and embraced her. Loghain’s breath caught in his throat.

Was that him? Was that the child?

His child, if he dared to think about it. But no, he had no claim to the boy. The agreement had been that the child would be Morrigan’s, and she would raise him as she saw fit. Still, the part he had played in the boy’s existence could not be denied.

His feet carried him forward before he realized he’d made the decision to approach. The witch froze at the sight of him, her eyes widening.

“Loghain,” she said. Then she straightened, regaining her composure. “I’d heard you were here.”

The boy had left her side and was sitting on a bench with a book in his lap, seemingly unaware of the visitor who had joined his mother. Loghain hadn’t expected the boy to appear so… normal.

“That is the child?” he asked, still in disbelief.

“He knows nothing.” Morrigan explained. “Of you. Of any of it.”

“And when will you tell him?” The boy would have to know someday, surely.

“He is an innocent,” she said, her voice shaking with motherly emotion he never would have expected from her.

“As we all were,” he told her. “Once.”

He thought the boy should know. The boy had that right, after all. But it wasn’t his place, so he left the courtyard before he made a fool of himself.

That should have been the end of it. He had no business with the witch or the boy. But his thoughts kept going back to the courtyard until later that night he found himself standing under the covered walkway watching her.

They were the only people present. Darkness had fallen, and the courtyard was lit only by the moon, the stars, and the breach in the sky. The witch stood in the middle of the yard, gazing at the stars as though she hoped to divine something from their positions.

Loghain was just asking himself why he had bothered to come when the witch’s voice called to him.

“No point in keeping to the shadows. I know you are there.”

He hesitated, then strode forward. “I did not wish to disturb you.”

“Better you make your presence known,” she said, her eyes not leaving the sky. “Then distract me with your indecision.”

Indecision? Perhaps he was a little conflicted… but only in his reasons for coming to the courtyard in the first place. He had no reservations in speaking with her. She had never done him any ill, after all, despite her foul magic. And there was a question that had been bothering him.

“Why are you here, Morrigan?” he asked. “With the Inquisition?”

“Celene wished to offer my services.” She explained, still not looking at him. “Thus, I was bound to follow.”

He chuckled. “I have trouble imaging you being ordered somewhere you did not already wish to go.”

She turned her gaze to him. “Corypheus seeks an ancient power. I wish to stop him from taking it… and preserve it myself, if I can.”

Of course. So the witch was performing the same dance even ten years later. “Another trophy to add to your collection?”

She spun around so fast that he took a step back, his hand going to his sword hilt out of reflex. “Kieran is my son!” she told him. “Think of me what you will, but you will not slander my child.”

He had seen many a mother stand in defence of her children. But he had never seen such fierce protectiveness from Morrigan, nor would he have thought her capable of it. Clearly, he had misjudged her character - in that aspect, at least.

“My apologies,” he said. And he meant it, though he did not release his sword until the fury died from her eyes and she turned back to contemplate the stars.

She was a mystery to him, he had to admit. It would be easy to pass her every action off as selfish. But she had cared a great deal for the Hero of Ferelden - even he had seen that. And now she had a son… She was more complicated, more human than he had originally given her credit for. Even so...

“You take great risks,” he told her. “For a woman with a child.”

“Having a child does not change my aspirations.” She said, not looking at him.

“True,” he said. “But if something were to happen to you-”

“Kieran is a strong lad,” she told him. “He would do fine without me.”

But her voice shook, and he wondered how well she believed her words. “Don’t be a fool, Morrigan.”

She laughed, turning to him. “You have no right to question me, and no right to concern yourself with Kieran. Why are you here, Loghain?”

It was a good question, one he didn’t know the answer to himself. Why was he here? Why had he bothered to speak with her? Why had his thoughts carried him to her? Why was he concerned about her welfare?

They had shared a night together, one forgettable night that shouldn’t have meant anything. Yet as he looked at her now - every bit as young and enticing and dangerous as she had been then - the memories flashed through his head. It was a ritual he hadn’t wanted to do but had agreed to, and now…

He could not explain his thoughts, could not account for the pounding heart in his chest. He could not justify his actions as he stepped to her, placed a hand on her waist, and pressed his mouth to hers.

For a moment, maybe two, she didn’t react. Then she pushed him from her and slapped him across the face.

He deserved that, he had to admit, though the stinging of his cheek did little to clear his head. He looked at her and became lost in those wild eyes.

Was this a spell? Had she bewitched him? Was the ritual they’d performed so many years ago cursed to draw them together again?

Maybe so. Because she seized the front of his uniform and pulled him toward her. He thought she meant to hit him again, but instead she captured his mouth with her lips.

He should have pulled away, but he didn’t protest and didn’t have a care to. He deepened the kiss, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. His fingers threaded through her hair.

Her lips still seeking his, she pulled at his uniform, searching for where it came undone.

They were alone in the courtyard but he hardly wanted to be undressed or to undress her in a place so open. He stepped back toward the covered walkway and she followed, their lips and fingers still grasping for each other. She led him to her room, thankfully close by, and once inside he shoved her against the door before claiming her mouth again.

She found the clasps in his armor and the heavy metal fell to the floor in a clatter. Loghain only took enough notice to shove the heap out of the way with his foot before returning his attention to her, sliding his hands along her exposed skin.

He had her at a disadvantage in that regard, and her hands struggled to untuck his shirt from his trousers to find his skin underneath. When she finally did, she pulled him close and raked her nails across his back.  

He hissed in response and lowered his mouth to her neck. If she was going to play hard, he would play hard back. His teeth bit at her skin with each kiss, enough to leave marks but not enough to draw blood. From the sounds she was making, she might have been enjoying it.

Before he could experiment, however, she pushed him from her again. Then she walked toward him, advancing toward the bed in the corner of the small room.

“What is this?” he asked her as she pushed again against his chest.

She smiled. “You think I’ve bewitched you?” She gave him a hard shove and he fell onto the bed on his back. She climbed on top of him, straddling his hips. “Is it so hard to believe we’re a healthy man and woman seeking a little recreation having done it once before and knowing it was pleasurable for the both of us?” She pulled up the front of his shirt and her tongue traveled from his stomach to his chest, her teeth scraping behind. Loghain sucked in a breath.

Is that all this was? One shared night ten years ago was enough to make them consider doing it all over again now?

And why not? He was a man. He had needs and desires, and ones that hadn’t been met in a long while. She was a woman. Surely, she had similar needs, and perhaps just as neglected as his. And given that they had been together before… There was no reason why this had to be complicated. In fact, it could be quite simple.

His fingers found the waist of her trousers and he pulled them down, revealing black underclothes. He pulled her toward him so he could reach her better. Then he slid his hand under the revealed garment and slipped two fingers inside her.

Her eyes widened at the thrust of his fingers. This was not territory they’d crossed during their previous night together.

He brought a hand to the back of her head, pulling her toward him. They kissed as he continued to pleasure her with his fingers and she murmured soft sounds of encouragement into his mouth.

At length, she drew back and lowered herself till her lips were at his waist, forcing his fingers to slip from her. She fumbled with his trousers until she found the string at the front that tied them together. They she pulled them down and his undergarment in one tug and lowered her mouth to him.

Loghain gasped. Sweet Andraste’s pyre! His hands clutched the bedsheets around him. Where had she learned…? Her tongue was doing such wicked things… He didn’t know whether to ask her to stop or keep going. In the end, he resolved to keep his mouth shut against the pleasure she was giving.

He lifted his head when he thought he heard her chuckle. Those wild yellow eyes looked back at him, and he knew he wanted her closer.

He took her arms and pulled her back toward him. Sitting up, he slid his fingers back inside her. Then he kissed her.

“Loghain.” She said after their lips parted.

He didn’t know if it was a warning or a plea, but it didn’t matter. He removed his fingers, pulling down her underclothes as he did so. They worked to remove each other’s lower garments completely, and then Loghain thrust himself inside her.

Morrigan groaned into the crook of his neck, her nails digging into the back of his shoulders. They lay back on the bed, Morrigan on top and riding him as their pleasure mounted. She kissed him fully before dropping her head again to his neck and moaning into his skin. He placed his hands on her hips, guiding her so each thrust of his hips buried deeper.

“Morrigan.” Her name came as a whisper on his lips, and she raised her head to kiss him again.

Their previous night together had been nothing like this. There had been pleasure involved, in the end at least. But there had been a need to start and finish things as quickly as possible. There hadn’t been so much kissing, for one. Less noise-making, for another. No foreplay. And she hadn’t been so responsive to his touch. He hadn’t felt so…

His tongue dared to brush her lips. She responded by opening her mouth and letting him in. Then she teased him with her own tongue. All the while their hips thrust together. He was enjoying this, more than he had thought possible. His hands ran along her skin, wanting to take in every inch of her.

At length she whimpered against his lips, and he moved his hands back to her hips, directing her as they headed toward climax. She came in the middle of a kiss, moaning into his mouth. He came shortly after, groaning as he continued his thrusts, keeping them both riding the wave of pleasure that washed over them.

At last, they collapsed, a tangled sweaty mess of arms and legs and clothing they had failed to remove. Though none of it mattered, satisfied as they both were. Loghain took Morrigan’s face in his hands, and he kissed her like they were two lovers, not two people who tolerated each other for tolerance’s stake.

 

* * *

 

It wasn’t so illogical, Loghain realized as he awoke next to Morrigan in the morning light. There were certain things about her he was attracted to. Her strength, for one. He’d always admired a woman who wasn’t afraid to speak her mind or act on what she thought was right, even better if she did so against him. That was how he’d met Anora’s mother, after all. They’d gotten into an argument at the marketplace. And after he’d had time to cool down and realize she’d been in the right… he’d offered his apologies and his arm, if she’d allow him to escort her home.

Morrigan was confident. She knew what she was capable of and she knew what she wanted and how to get it. Too many fools in this world spent too much time second guessing, getting themselves and the people around them killed. He’d seen it a number of times in battle. Morrigan had enough confidence to lead a knowing army to its death, and it would follow her without question.

She was stubborn, sticking by her choices even if everyone around her told her she was wrong. He’d had to do the same by his choices a number of times in his life. He’d been right for most of those. Morrigan had enough chance of being wrong - especially where this Corypheus was concerned - that he found her refusal to see reason infuriating. But he couldn’t help admire her will in any case.

Not to mention, she had raised a child on her own and made her way into the Empress’ good graces. Her accomplishments could not to go overlooked.

He’d always been drawn toward strong women. That, coupled with the explanation Morrigan had given the night before… yes, he could see how they had gotten here. It didn’t seem so strange… though he had no idea what she saw in him, if she saw anything. But she must have seen something or last night wouldn’t have been as tender as it had.

Even so, what was the point in wondering? There could be nothing between them, even if he wanted there to be - and he wasn’t sure he did. He was a Warden. He had duties elsewhere. And she had a child - a child that was admittedly his, but still - a child that didn’t need to be mixed up in the love affair between two damaged people.

There was no future for them, but at least he could enjoy the moment while it lasted.

She opened her eyes to look at him, and he ran a hand down her back, unhindered by the final articles of clothing they had discarded during the night. He touched her face and caressed her cheek with his thumb. He wondered if he could ever get used to those enchanting yellow eyes.

“You’re not taking this to mean more than it is?” she asked after he didn’t speak for several moments.

“Of course not,” he told her. “I’m simply…” His eyes swept over her body. “Enjoying the view.” He lowered his hand, sweeping his fingertips down her neck and over her collarbone to her breast, which he cupped.

She smiled, the corner of her lips curling. She slid closer to him, then ran her hand down his chest and further till she reached between his legs and took hold.

He gave a murmur of approval and leaned in to kiss her.

There was a knock on the door. “Mother?”

“It’s Kieran!” Morrigan gasped, and she gave him a hard shove off the bed.

Loghain hit the stone floor on his stomach. The surface was like ice against his bare skin. But he had enough sense to crawl under the bed before the door opened.

“Mother,” Loghain heard Kieran’s voice behind him.

How well hidden was he? Did the bedsheets hang far enough off the sides to hide him from view? Or should he be praying the boy didn’t glance down? What about his clothes? Maker, where were his clothes?

“Are you all right? The sun is up and breakfast is nearly over.”

“I’m sorry, dearest.” Said Morrigan. “I didn’t sleep much last night. I’ll be out soon. Just let me rest a little longer.”

“Sorry, mother.” Said the boy. Loghain could hear his footsteps retreating.

“Thank you, for checking, sweetheart.”

The door finally closed. Loghain let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.

Morrigan started laughing, and Loghain joined in as he crawled out from under the bed and sat beside her. She pointed toward the door. On the floor was his Warden armor, but it was in the exact position as to be hidden by the door when it swung open.

Loghain laughed harder as Morrigan put her face in her hands. That had been close.

They continued laughing until it died away to smiles and then a awkward moment when they realized they were getting along far too much and glanced away from one another.

“We should dress,” she told him. “Before Kieran comes back.”

He couldn’t help feeling a little disappointed as she left the bed, but he also couldn’t fault her for being practical.

She was dressed before him, having less clothing. She walked over to him to admire his light blue tunic that he had tucked into his trousers.

“This is a nice color on you.” She said, fingering the sleeve. “I don’t know why you cover it up with all that armor. I’m sure you’ll have plenty of warning if the castle is attacked.”

He didn’t know how she didn’t freeze to death with how little she wore in this mountain air, but he knew better than to comment on it. “If the lady insists,” he said and bowed to her.

She rolled her eyes, but didn’t protest as he gathered the rest of his clothing into a manageable pile.

“Will you write to me?” she asked. “Once you leave Skyhold?”

“Write to you? You’re not taking this to mean more than it is?”

“No.” She assured him. “But,” She crossed the room and placed a hand on his chest. “If we happen to be in the same area again, I wouldn’t mind a repeat of last night, would you?”

He raised his eyebrows. “No egear lads at the Orleasian court?”

She scoffed. “They wouldn’t have the stamina.”

The corners of his lips curled.

“That was not a compliment.” She said.

“You forget who you’re talking to.” He slid a hand around her waist. “I’ll take any insult to Orleasians as a compliment.” He kissed her, because he wanted to, and to drown out the voice that had returned to his head to ask him just what in Andraste’s name he was doing here with this woman.

“You will write?” she asked once they’d parted.

He gave a nod. “Yes.”

Her lips twitched into a smile. “Good.”

She removed herself from his arms. And as she stepped away from him, she slapped him on the rear. He turned around to stare at her, but she only smirked.

“I’ll make sure the coast is clear.”

She disappeared behind the door, and that little voice in his head warned him that seeing her again would be very bad idea.

 

* * *

 

He would not be seeing Morrigan again, even if he wanted to. After Adamant and the need to rebuild, he would be returning to Weisshaupt to report to the Wardens there. But he would write her as he’d promised, even if that little voice in his head protested.

Just so she knew he’d be thinking of her, before he left he told the Inquisitor, “Give my regards to the witch.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> I ship it now.  
> I blame the plot bunnies.
> 
> If I entertained you, consider buying me a coffee: Ko-fi.com/heidirs
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
